


On The Steps Of The Courthouse

by RadioactiveFirefly92 (ScarletMelodies92)



Category: Avengers, Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, But yet no comfort, Character Death, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Kind of Happy ending?, Last words, M/M, Marriage, Multiverse, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Sacrificing Tony Stark, Snipers, its complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13939290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletMelodies92/pseuds/RadioactiveFirefly92
Summary: There was a sniper on the roof of the courthouse.





	1. Heroes Fall

The city was electric with tension. The people were originally divided into two - those who supported Steve and those who supported Tony. Anyone and everyone had an opinion, and seemed determined not to keep it silent.

As more and more evidence came out in the others' trials - Wanda's powers and what they could do, the airport footage, and the cherry on the cake, the footage of Siberia in Bucky's trial - support gradually shifted away from Steve's side. There was his hardcore supporters one week, and the next week there was a muted silence. Not that Steve could blame them all too much.

Tony had excellent lawyers, but they honestly didn't need to do much. Tony had openly acknowledged his mistakes during the Civil War at a press conference a few days before the trials began, and the emotion with which he spoke had swayed many to his side. Steve's side...well, the clips of Clint screeching like his namesake as he was dragged off and of Wanda demolishing buildings on YouTube...Steve's side seemed extraordinarily unsympathetic in comparison.

Crowds lined the way to the foreboding courthouse, flashes of colourful protest signs and angry screams passing them by in the car. There were guards everywhere. Occasionally, Steve saw a chance where he maybe could have made a break for it, split-seconds where a guard was distracted, or there was an opening...

He never even tried.

A numbness settled over him, a comfortable blanket woven with grief and hurt. Steve welcomed it; it was far preferable to the open hollow of guilt inside his chest that had resided since Siberia and was only getting rawer and more painful the closer he got to the courthouse.

It ached so much Steve thought he might just sway, just fall to the ground with the weight of it, especially whenever he looked at the white - gold ring on his finger that he couldn't bring himself to take off. Dim memories of laughter in the common room, of red metal and gold accents, and then blue light and olive skin haunted him like ghosts.

Bruce was gone, away with the wind, scared off by Wanda. Natasha was in hiding, but the memory of her disappointed, heartbroken face as she watched their family tear themselves apart still remained crystal-clear in his mind.

He had wanted to _kill_ Tony. How had things gone so wrong?

The armoured car stopped, and the noise seemed to increase tenfold, howls of rage. Humans never were more animalistic then when they were angry, Steve thought hollowly, remembering Tony's bared teeth in Siberia and his own crazed eyes in the footage, Bucky's bloodlust.

He was shoved out of the car, stumbling slightly, but he regained his balance easily. The metal - near unbreakable, he remembered watching Tony make it in the lab - rubbed his wrists, punched the skin, but he hardly noticed. Things were thrown at him; they never came close to hitting him.

Several guards walked him through the crowd, another line of them trying to hold back the swelling and undulating mass of humanity. Guns caught Steve's eye - he seemed to see flashes of red and gold in every shiny surface, so familiar and safe, but so painful. Natasha's red locks flashed at him from the crowd. He could have sworn he heard Thor's bellowing laugh, the twang of Clint's arrow and the aroma of Bruce's tea drifted over the crowd.

He saw Tony.

Tony stood on the steps of the courthouse, an imposing figure in one of those suits Steve had loved, one that used to make him look dashing. It still did, but now it made him look sharp, look like he had edges. He looked brittle, and as Steve grew closer, he could see the well-masked grief and heartbreak in Tony's eyes, looking darker then they ever had from something like lust or fear. His hair was immaculate, his goatee well-maintained.

His hands were shaking and bare, and that sent a wave of hurt so strong through Steve it almost brought him to his knees.

He nodded at the guards, and for the first time Steve noticed that Happy Hogan's face stared grimly out from underneath one of the helmets.

A few months ago, he had been sharing blueberries muffins and friendly banter with the man while they waited for Tony to finish his board meeting. That moment seemed simultaneously as if it happened yesterday, and as if it happened years ago, in another ( _better_ Steve's mind whispered) life.

There was no sign of Rhodey or Pepper, but Steve knew they were already inside. He also knew the whole world was watching. Sam, Clint, Scott, Wanda and Bucky were watching in their cells. Bruce was watching on a grainy TV in a shelter that smelled of spice and candle wax. Natasha was in a seedy bar somewhere, hoodie covering her hair, eyes on the screen on the wall. Thor was standing in another dimension, face saddened at the destruction of their family, and watching from Heimdall's gate.

Tony wasn't watching. He wouldn't meet Steve's eyes. 

A thousand reporters craned forward, and the crowd quieted a little as Steve stopped briefly beside Tony. The guards made to force him on, but some silent cue from Tony had them backing off, although Happy looked unwilling to do so.

"Tony," Steve said quietly.

Tony didn't look at him, eyes unfocused and staring past him in a way Steve used to find endearing. It used to mean Tony was solving mysteries in his head, used to mean whatever threat the Avengers were facing was being disassembled carefully in his head. It used to mean Tony was safe, and happy, and thoughtful.

It had never been accompanied by that look of desolation before.

"Steve," Tony said, just as quietly. The acknowledgement should have felt like a victory, but it didn't.

"I'm sorry."

Tony didn't react. "You'd do it again."

"No," Steve admitted, memories of sunlit mornings pressed up against the man in front of him flashing through his head. "I wouldn't."

Tony finally looked at him, and there was surprise there, but it was dim and dull and faded quickly. "Then why?"

And his voice was all wrong. Usually, when Tony asked a question, you could hear the burning desire to _know,_ to just get that little extra bit of information. There was a curiosity in his heart, a need to know why and how things worked. Knowledge was something Tony craved as another substitute for sleep, food or water. It was what he thrived on.

There was nothing in his tone. The wondrous curiosity that had drawn Steve had been crushed, and the cruel irony was, Steve had done it himself.

"I don't know. But I wish I had never done it. I wish I hadn't lost us. I don't regret saving Bucky, but I will always regret this." Steve held the genuine pain in his voice, hoping to get through to Tony, but the armour had been more expressive than this.

Tony remained silent, eyes empty.

"Tony?"

Tony nodded to the guards. "They'll be ready for him in a few minutes."

Steve wanted to stretch out a hand, but the shackles held his hands fast. "Tony, please..."

Tony stilled, hand on the doors. His head lowered, his shoulders stiffened. "I'm sorry too, but I already told you that. You just didn't listen. You never listened, at the end."

The words hit Steve like a punch in the face, but he reached out, as much as possible. "Tony..."

Tony froze, and then slumped. He turned, moving like the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Steve stared at the Atlas in front of him, a man with such a heavy burden he could barely stand. 

He still wouldn't look at Steve, eyes looking beyond him, and Steve felt a sudden rush of inexplicable rage.

"Tony -" Steve started, but something shone in the pupils of Tony's wide eyes, and his expression turned from blank to panicked and calculating.

Tony's body hit him, twisting him around, and the sheer shock of it sent Steve feeling back, losing his balance, but not before he heard the awful crack, felt Tony's lithe frame jolt grotesquely against him, and they tumbled down the white marble steps among the screams. 

Steve hit the stairs hard, but he staggered half upright, losing Tony somewhere in the process. The world blurred, and Steve blinked a few times, a cavern of fear opening in him, far worse then guilt- 

Tony lay at the very bottom of the steps, arms spread wide, and face tilted towards the sky. He didn't move, and Steve watched in abject horror as blood started to blossom on his white shirt.

Steve scrambled down the steps, horror and pain tearing at his chest, ignoring the chaos around him, skidding to his knees at Tony's side. He cradled his face in his hands, watching the olive skin grow paler with each faint breath, as fragile and fleeting as a butterfly wing.

"Tony! Tony, Tony, please, c'mon. Wake up, honey, please."

Tony opened his eyes, and Steve could see something terrible in them. His gaze focused, and his eyes flicked to Steve's own face. "Steve?"

Steve gripped Tony's hand. "I'm here. Tony, I'm so sorry, you're going to be fine. Don't close your eyes, stay awake. You're fine."

Tony laughed, turned it into a rattling cough, and blood droplets sprayed out of his mouth. "I'm not fine, Steve, don't lie."

The ' _again_ ' hung unsaid between them. Steve pressed down hard on the wound, and Tony let out a muffled gasp of pain. Steve looked around frantically, but security seemed to have vanished, and the crowd stampeded away.

"You took a bullet for me," Steve whispered, unable to stand it any longer, watching Tony's life drain away through his fingers. "I thought you hated me."

Tony smiled through cracked lips. "I should. I don't."

His eyes started to flutter shut. Steve gripped him tighter. "No, Tony. Eyes open, on me, okay?"

"Aye aye Cap," Tony mumbled. A thin line of gleaming crimson trailed down the side of his mouth, and Steve's screams for medical attention seemed to be going unheard. 

His eyes slid shut anyway.

"Tony, please," Steve was begging. "Don't go."

"You did." Tony's voice was weak and wavering, sounding briefly more vulnerable then Steve had ever heard him. "You left. You left me alone, and you promised you wouldn't."

Tony's quiet words hit like a fist to the face, but Steve pressed on, desperation flooding his voice. "I know. I know, and I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry, just please don't -"

His eyes started to slide shut. Steve shook him as gently as he could, and Tony laughed weakly at him.

"I'm not going to do anything silly, Steve. I'm just...going asleep. Weren't you always nagging me to sleep more?"

"Not like this," Steve whispered. God, never like this.

Tony coughed again, and arched in pain. There was a lot more blood.

"I love you," Steve said. Tony's face was blurry, and it was only then Steve realised hot, bitter tears were clouding his vision and streaming down his cheeks.

"I-" Tony clutched at his chest clumsily, patting himself down. He was looking for something, Steve realised, and then Tony made a small noise.

Dangling from boneless fingers was a golden chain, and hanging loosely on the chain was a delicate white-gold ring, the twin to Steve's own.

"Oh god," Steve choked.

"I love you too," Tony replied, a tiny, fragile smile on his bloodstained lips. Then something froze in him; his breath stuttered, his body tensed, and the hand Steve clutched so tightly went limp, dropping to the ground. The chain hit the steps with a clink, and the ring rolled away.

Tony stared sightlessly up at the sky, eyes reflecting only stars in the middle of the day, and for a second Steve saw the wonder and awe in his face he remembered so well, saw a lifetime he lost.

A quiet wind brushed the sensitive skin on his cheek, a final kiss goodbye - a stylish, understated exit - and Tony was gone, leaning Steve cradling a broken, bloody body in the midst of the screaming crowd.


	2. But Only In Our Dreams

Steve woke with a jolt and a scream, tears pouring down his face that he hastily scrubbed away with a sleeve. The warm mass next to him mumbled something, stirred, and rolled over, evidently dropping back into blissful, undisturbed sleep.

Steve stared at the peaceful face, dimly highlighted by the blue light poorly blocked out by the covers, and let out a breath.

Blue eyes blinked open, crusted with sleep, but widening as they took in Steve's face. "Honey? Are you alright?"

"Fine," Steve choked out. "Just nightmares."

A look of understanding crossed the other's face, and Tony curled closer around Steve. "The ice?"

"No...it was something different. Really different. I...have no idea where it came from, but you were dead, and it was my fault -"

"Ssh," Tony murmured. "I'm right here. D'you reckon you can sleep again, or are we watching movies on the couch?"

"Couch," Steve said decisively. Tony nodded warmly, then yawned. "Jarvis, queue up  _Tangled,_ will ya?"

"Certainly, Sir," Jarvis's soothing tones replied from the general direction of the ceiling, and Steve let out a shaky breath.

"C'mon, then," Tony said gently, and Steve let himself be lead out of the bedroom.

Something small flickered in his mind, and he shuddered. Those dead eyes would haunt him forever, but then again, they all had their nightmares. For the time being, Steve let himself relax, curling protectively around the smaller figure.

(The other Tony's eyes were brown)

* * *

 

In a different world, a forgotten ring lay on a street covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought it was gonna be a happy ending... Well, I suppose it was. For one Steve and Tony at least.
> 
> Please, comment if you liked and kudos if you were saddened. Or vice versa.


End file.
